{Eric Pov}
I sit at my desk, filling out yet another report on our most recent autopsy. A stabbing case with the removal of several organs. However, the death was by a stab directly into the heart, one of the only organs that was left in the body. This is the third identical case this week. It's unfortunate as well. The woman had a husband and two kids. I almost feel bad for the family. But this job comes with zero attachment to those who die. At least, according to William.
William T. Spears is the big boss around the facility. He takes his job the most serious than anyone else. Sometimes, too seriously. He likes to give us all overtime at the office just to make sure all our desks our clean for tomorrow's list of autopsies. Some days, I don't blame him. We have a lot of work and sure it's a pain, but at least it's done and out of the way. Other days, I wanna kill him. Some times, the work load is too heavy that he'll keep us till like eleven o'clock at night. And my shift starts at seven thirty everyday. But death stops for no one, you know.
I sign off on the last autopsy report of the day as I slam my pen on my desk and slide the paper in the "Completed" box on top of my filing cabinet. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn as I look over to see William leave his office. He's walking over to me with a plastic bag with something in it.
Oh no. What could he possibly have me do at this time of night? And I'm almost done with my shift! UGH!
"Slingby," he says.
"Yeah boss?" I reply leaning back in my chair slightly.
"I need you to run an errand for me," he says, "I need you to deliver this to a friend of mine at the Nikishiko Memorial Hospital."
"And you can't do it yourself, because?" I ask, "Come on, boss. My shift is almost over, I'm tired, and my only day off this month is tomorrow."
"Well, I figured since you're done with your paperwork, I picked you since everyone else is so busy with there's," he tells me, "And besides, I'm still swamped with my own paperwork."
For once, I wish I had more paperwork.
"Alright, fine," I say taking the bag off his hands, "What's the dude's name?"
"Alan Humphries," he says, "He should be in the hospice care unit."
Alan Humphries...Why does that ring a bell?
"Hospice care?" I ask, "He's in that bad of condition?"
"Unfortunately," he says, "He's been in there for a while."
"How long is a while?" I ask.
"The past four months," he says.
"Shouldn't they have taken him out of there since he's been in there for that long?" I ask.
"These are questions I can not answer as I do not know them myself," he says.
"Okay," I say, "But you owe me one."
"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Slingby," he says turning on his heels and begins to walk back to his office, but stops at the front of his door, "And Slingby? Please. The man's going through some hard times. Just...try to keep him company for tonight...And DON'T do anything to stress him out."
"Whatever you say, boss," I say getting up off my chair and walking over to the coat rack.
"Thank you," he says opening the door and entering his office, closing it behind him.
I grab my jacket and slide it on. I also throw on my leather gloves and black scarf. It is February after all. Sometimes, the temperature is in the negatives. I make my way out of the office and into the hallway. I walk all the way to the elevator and press the "up" arrow. Suddenly, I hear footsteps running down the hall. I look over to see Ronald running to catch up to me.
"Hey," he says out of breath, "Thanks for waiting for me."
"No problem," I say. The elevator opens as we step inside. I press the "first floor" button as the doors close and start to bring us up.
"So..." Ronald says, "You wanna hit up the bar with me and a friend of mine? It is Friday after all."
"Can't," I say, "Have to run this stupid errand for William."
"Oh," he says, "Where?"
"To the Nikishiko Memorial Hospital," I say, "I need to give this to a man named Alan Humphries."
"Alan Humphries...Never heard of him," he says, "What does William have to do with a man in a hospital?"
"Don't know," I say, "Maybe they're friends or something..."
"Maybe," he says. The elevator doors open as we both step out. We walk down another hallway and make our way out of the building.
"Well, see ya!" Ronald says heading a different direction than me.
"See you Sunday," I say.
I walk down the snow covered sidewalk as I approach my car. I grab my keys out of my pocket and unlock it as I step in, closing the door behind me. I pull out my iPhone and go to Google maps. I look up the hospital address and start the car. I make my way down the main road and onto the interstate.
As I'm traveling, I look at the clock. Quarter after nine. I wonder how long the visitor hours are until. I drive on the interstate for about five minutes and get off at the exit I needed. I make my way down the road and finally see the hospital. I come to realize that my house isn't that far away from my house. Which will make it easy and quick for me to get home. I find a parking space in the hospice unit and turn the car off. I grab the package and make my way out of the car and to the building.
I enter the building and are greeted by a nurse behind the front desk. She's a fairly tall, brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes wearing a pink nurse's dress and hat.
"Hello!" she says, "Are you here to visit a patient?"
"Yes," I say, "On behalf of William Spears."
"So I assume you want to see Mr. Humphries?" she asks.
"That's correct," I say.
"Alright," she says handing me a visitor pass, "This is your visitor pass. The hours end at ten o'clock, but...don't be suprised if Alan would want you to stay. Follow me."
She gets up from behind the counter and escorts me down a numerous set of hallways and to room five-three-one. She then knocks on the door.
"Mr. Humphries?" she says, "You have a visitor."
"Okay," I hear faintly.
The nurse opens the door and walks into a dim room. I enter in the room to see a man laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to numerous monitors, IVs, and a small breathing tube around his face and in his nose. He has brown hair, thin rimmed glasses, and green eyes. His whole body looks weak and fragile as I can faintly see some of his veins in his arms. Something about him sparks a thought in my head.
Why do I feel like I know him?
"Who is this, Elanora?" he asks quietly, almost inaudible.
"This is..." she begins, but pauses. She turns to me with a look of confusion, "What's your name again?"
"Eric," I help her.
"Eric," she says turning back to Alan, "He comes on behalf of William."
"Alright," he says.
"Would you like me to stay, Mr. Humphries?" she asks.
"No," he says, "I can always call you if I need you."
"Alright," she says bowing, "Call me if you need me." She then takes her leave as I'm now alone with Alan. The first couple seconds were silent and awkward as I stare at the door. But then, Alan speaks up.
"Well?" he says as I turn to him, "Take a seat. I don't bite." He gives a small smile as a grab a nearby chair and sit next to the bed.
"So, you came for William?" he asks.
"Yeah, he kinda got caught up with paperwork," I say, "Today was a really busy day at the office."
"You...work with William?" he asks shifting in his bed a little, propping himself up into a slouched sitting position.
"Yeah," I say, "He's my boss."
"I used to work for him," he says looking down at his twiddling thumbs, "Until I got sick..."
"Really?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says, "However, I never saw you before. When were you hired?"
WAIT! What if I worked with him and I just don't remember?! I going to have to change some things around.
"September eighth," I lie. He chuckles slightly and bows his head.
"The day I was admitted," he says, "How ironic...What is your name again?"
"Eric Slingby," I say.
"Ah, yes," he says looking at me, "William has told me a lot about you."
"Really?" I say, "Like what?"
"Well..." he says, "It's a little hazy. And my memory isn't the best it can be for my age. But he said that you get the job done, but struggle to get it done. You're constantly given overtime by the lack of getting work done, but I've heard your autopsy reports are perfect and detailed."
"Hmm," I say, "That sounds about right."
"I didn't offend you?" he asks.
"Not at all," I say.
"Oh! Okay," he says, "So...what did William bring me?"
"Oh yeah," I say handing him the bag, "Here you go."
His shaking arms take the bag off my hands and set it on his lap. He tries to open the bag, but he's shaking way to much to get the knot out. He stops and laughs slightly.
"Do you mind, uh...helping me?" he says.
"Oh yeah," I say, "Sure." I reach over and untie the knot for him. I look inside to find a small box of chocolates and batch of Ericas.
"Thanks," he says, "Sorry about that."
"Why would you be sorry?" I say.
"I'm constantly needing assistance on simple things I should be able to do," he says, "Even though this sickness I have doesn't affect my strength, the smallest amount of stress can set me off. So I gave up on even trying to do things that involve stress, therefore making myself weaker everyday."
"May I ask what you have?" I ask.
Silence.
"I'm sorry!" I say putting up my hands in defense, "I shouldn't have asked. We've only just met and it's none of my-"
"No," he cuts me off, lifting up his hand slightly, signaling me to stop, "You work for William. I think I can trust you to keep this private and low key."
"Are you sure?" I ask, "I don't want to stress you out."
"It's fine," he says. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in and out.
"I have this thing called Coronary Artery Disease. What this is it's when the arteries that supply blood to heart muscle become hardened and narrowed. This is due to the buildup of cholesterol and other material, or plaque, on their inner walls. This buildup is called atherosclerosis. As it grows, less blood can flow through the arteries. As a result, the heart muscle can't get the blood or oxygen it needs. "
"Wow," I say, "That must be rough."
"Yeah," he says. All of a sudden, he brings hand up to his chest and clenches it. His face scrunches up and his breathing becomes shallow.
"Alan?" I say.
"Don't worry," he says, "This...ugh...is normal. Happens...all the...ugh...time."
His breathing picks up as he clenches his chest harder and sweat runs down his face. His breathing gets shorter and shorter, shallower and shallower.
"Alan?!" I say standing up, rushing to his side, "I'll call the nurse." I press the "Call" button to summon the nurse. At first, I panic a bit. I don't know how to properly help this man. But I have to do something. I place my left hand on his chest and my right hand on his back. He places his hand over mine and clenches it tightly. But I ignore it, as I let him do whatever helps him.
"Try to breathe," I say calmly, "In...and out."
He stagger breathes in and stagger breathes out at first, but then his breathing starts to regulate. I start to rub his back as he looks up at me, face drenched in sweat. I took my left hand and brushed his bangs away from his eyes.
"I'll be back in a minute," I say, "Keep breathing."
I rush to the bathroom and get a washcloth, running it under cold water. I wring it out and go back to Alan to find him laying down, hand over his chest, but not clenching it. I fold the washcloth into a rectangle and place it on his forehead, under his bangs. He smiles at me as his hand slides off his chest.
Suddenly the door busts open. It is Elanora.
"Mr. Humphries!" she says rushing over, but then stopped, "Wait...his breathing is...regulated?" I look up to see his oxygen levels are back to their normal state and his heart rate beating slowly and consistently.
"Did you just...stop the attack?" she asks me.
"I guess I did," I say.
"That never happens!" she says, "Normally, these fits happen for long periods of time. When did this start?"
"About two minutes ago," I say as he grabs my right hand and holds it in his left hand.
"Thank you," he says, "I've never been through an attack that came and went so quickly."
"You're welcome, I guess," I say. And with that, he drifts off to sleep. Immediately, I panic. What if he doesn't wake up?!
"Is this normal?!" I say.
"Yes," she says, "He usually falls asleep after these attacks. They drain all the energy out of him. Or what little he has. Such a shame really."
"Ma'am, if you don't mind me asking," I say, "Why was Alan admitted into hospice?"
"Do you really want to know?" she says uneasy. I nod nervously as she takes a breath in.
"His doctor, Dr. Nikishiko herself, gave up on him," she tells me, "When she first brought him in, she thought it would be an easy fix. She gave him an Angioplasty and it fixed his disease...for about a month. The plaque kept building up and overtime, Mr. Humphries started to deteriorate. Physically and mentally."
"After administering the third Angioplasty, Dr. Nikishiko declared there was nothing else she could do. Since the medical bills piled up and his insurance couldn't keep up, he was sent to hospice care in November, where he has stayed ever since."
"You know, every nurse has seen him as a lost cause. Everyday, they've seen it as his last and they treat him as it is. But when I was assigned to be his caretaker, I've seen him as my diamond in the ruff. He's lived longer than any patients I've tended to. And because of that, I've made sure he was comfortable, check on him every hour, and much more. I made sure he was my number one priority everyday."
"That's...really nice of you," I say.
"Hey," she says blushing slightly, "It's kinda my job."
I look at the clock for the time. Ten o'clock.
"It looks like I should be leaving," I say releasing the grip on Alan's hand. As I was making my way out the room, I was stopped by Elanora.
"Please, Mr. Eric," she says, "I encourage you to stay the night."
"I don't think I'm allowed to do that," I say, "Besides, I don't have a spare change of clothes."
"How far is your house from here?"
"Umm..." I say checking my phone, "Looks like five miles. Why?"
"You go get what you need and I'll make sure you get back in," she says, "I usually stay with him overnight, but my shift ends at midnight tonight. And I can't go over my hours."
I think it over in my head a little bit.
This woman really sounds like she needs my help, but wouldn't be against the rules to just stay here?
"What time will you be back?" I ask.
"Eight," I say, "Right before he usually wakes up around eight thirty, but he can wake up at anytime due to his attack."
"Alright," I say, "Let me go get my things."
"Great," she says, "I'll be at the front desk. Also, I'll put you down as a family member. That way the hours won't apply to you."
"That's unneeded," I say.
"But I insist!" she says, "Now hurry up! Before my shift ends."
"Right," I say leaving the room.
I rush down the halls and out of the hospital. I get in my car and almost floor it to my house. Looking at the sights on the interstate, I take in how beautiful the lights are at night. I've never really noticed the little things in life. I'm the kind of guy that takes things in as the go. And not really the guy that stops to smell the roses.
Once I get to my house, I rush inside and run up the stairs to my room. I change into a white t-shirt, black jeans, black converse, and slide on a grey sweatshirt. I also grab a small bag and fill it with my toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and glasses cleaner. I leave my room, rush downstairs, and get out the door. I hop in the car, turn on the ignition, leave for the road again.
As I speed down the interstate, I check the clock. Ten twenty-five. Not bad. I once again get off the interstate and make my way into the hospital parking lot. I take a deep breath as I turn off the ignition and get out of the car. I shove my hands into my pockets as I enter the hospital. Thankfully, Elanora is still there. She hands me a pink pass instead of the normal visitor pass.
"This means that you are a family member," she says, "Therefore, you won't get kicked out in the middle of the night."
"Thank you, Elanora," I say, "For everything."
"You're welcome," she says, "I brought a collapsible cot from a joint room if you don't want to sleep in the chair."
"Thanks," I say.
I walk down the hall and approach Alan's room. I knock on the door. Silence. I quietly turn the door knob and enter his room. I look at him to find him still asleep. His heart monitor beeping at a slow pace. His chest rises and falls in a consistent pattern. I find the cot on Alan's left side. I grab the blanket off the chair and spread it out on the cot. I lay down and look up to see Alan's arm hanging off the bed slightly. I shift onto my back and lightly grasp his hand. I smile slightly as I drift off to sleep.
Hello there! For those who don't know me, my name is JGC5436. You may know me from my Fire Emblem Fates fanfiction, "The Choices We Make" on Wattpad. But if you don't, I welcome to the cruise line that is the AlanxEric ship. You can expect some bumpy patches along the way, but it'll mostly be smooth sailing. I'll try to update as best as I can, but with my freshman year of college approaching, it may be difficult to update chapters. So bare with me and as always:
Thanks for Reading!
*Janessa